Episode 161: Behind the Story (3)

Friday evening was closing in on seven, but with the joint announcement from the government and the World Phase Ability User Association only minutes away, not a single person had left for the day.

Up on the eighteenth-floor office level, staff had put off clocking out and were waiting on the news. Down in the first-floor hall—large enough to hold several hundred at once—Time River's ability users and support staff had gathered as well, eyes fixed on the broadcast spilling from the wide screen mounted on one wall.

I was among them, with Franc and Hwayeon. Around us sat the two vice-captains and the four team leaders of Teams 1, 2, 3, and 10, all waiting for the announcement to begin.

Director Lee Hyeryeong was supposed to deliver this one herself, if I had it right. At 6:55, five minutes short of the hour, the picture cut to the briefing hall in the Chunchugwan, the press center at the Blue House. The wide room was packed, Eastern and Western faces alike, and behind the crowd a line of network cameras stood shoulder to shoulder.

"It's starting."

At someone's word, the hall went quiet all at once.

Onto the dais stepped a grandfatherly figure I knew well, hale and straight-backed, and took the microphone. Behind him stood Kang Hyunwoo, Korean Branch Director of the Ability User Association, and a foreigner I had never seen; beside them, Director Lee Hyeryeong and Director Kim Pyochung took their places.

Deputy Minister Kim Hakjun read slowly through the statement prepared in advance. For about five minutes he laid the thing out so anyone could follow it, only the essentials: everything from before I went in on the third cycle, up through my return the day before yesterday.

At ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the deputy minister's cue, Director Lee worked the pad in her hand. On the enormous panel behind him, the types and numbers of aberrants I had taken scrolled up, and beside them the Phase Stones and byproducts, one line after another.

All of it went up with photographs: one High Grade Phase Stone of roughly 290,000 TP, another 110,000 TP in stones taken from upper-mid, mid, and mid-low grades, and, counting the corpse and byproducts of the High-Rank VariantSolid Snake together with the harvest from the rest, a profit approaching a billion dollars.

At results achieved in a mere four hours, the reporters reeled and hurled question after question. Deputy Minister Kim raised a hand and stopped them. He glanced to one side, gestured, and the hall dimmed. A large screen descended behind him, in front of the panel.

Once the five of them stepped clear of the screen, the verification team's footage began to play, split into nine feeds. The grid showed their movements from every direction at once, and the center panel never once let go of me.

The reporters who watched the opening moment—the kill on the Worm Driller—were too stunned to get a word out. The aberrant hunts that followed took even the words they had left.

The raising of the camp whipped past at a hundred times speed. Then Franc, Hwayeon, and I were waiting at the forest's edge, and close to a hundred anaconda-class serpent aberrants, along with thorn octopuses and slime turtles, came pouring out of the trees only to be cut to pieces the instant they cleared the wood. A few people in the hall let out hollow laughs.

"How does that even work? He's barely moving his hands, and the aberrants are dropping dead."

"What? Are those Lowest-Rank Variants? Look at the size and the shape. Those are Mid-Low Grade at the least."

A few people had muttered it. The ones around them turned and glared.

I had swept the lot in less time than it takes to finish a cup of tea, and then Franc and I went back into the trees. The playback jumped between five times and twenty times speed, and over a dozen minutes hundreds of aberrants were made short work of, casually, in full view.

Silence settled over the hall of the Time River Building. On the television, the briefing room was a restless mutter of reporters.

Then came the highlight of that night.

From what must have been a sentry's view, the butchering of byproducts at camp flew past at a hundred times speed. Dinner ended. The moment the clock reached one in the morning, the playback dropped to normal speed.

A black night sky. Rain coming down in sheets. Franc punched up through the tent and shot into the air, came back in an instant, and dove inside—and in the same breath Hwayeon burst out, shouting that they were under attack. The camp woke all at once. Ability users of every affiliation came running from the tents.

I came out with Franc in pitch-black ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Force Leather armor and took off somewhere; the frame caught it. The angle shifted, and my back filled the shot. We were talking, but the rain swallowed every word. A moment later Franc flew off into the trees, and my voice—ordinary, and yet not, with something strange in it—broke out, calling for Yeongeun.

Yeongeun came running, and Hwayeon, and the Branch Director. I told them an aberrant assault was coming. My head turned toward the forest, and with a rolling peal of thunder one side of the night sky washed white.

I kicked off the ground and ran for the trees at a terrifying speed. Yeongeun followed, and the moment the viewpoint became hers, a vast river of lightning poured out of the sky and killed the surrounding aberrants to the last. I shot left and flung my hand, and the camera swung after me.

Something transparent cut through the rain. Beyond the dark, something black and pale shot out like lightning and dodged, and the Mana Bullet flew on uselessly and vanished into the forest. Right after that, something came at me fast where I stood still. I set my stance and held. Suddenly my figure was wrapped in shimmering ripples.

I could feel the people around me, watching the screen, focus hard.

The playback slowed to a tenth of speed.

In the pouring rain, the fight between one massive stone serpent and one man wrapped in ripples sprayed and burst water in every direction, and it did not let up. I swung my arms again and again, firing. Solid Snake traced an S, slipped every Mana Bullet, compressed like a spring, and launched like lightning. The instant we collided, half its head was already gone. It sprayed blood and thrashed across the ground, and I was thrown with it, flung off to one side.

The moment I hit the earth the frame lurched hard and stopped. Yeongeun's feed. Had she started toward me and frozen?

I was planted in the mud, staggering, and the camera caught it clean. A blue wave spread from my body. I lurched upright, kicked off the ground, and leapt nearly twenty meters. In my right hand there was something thread-thin—transparent, but the rain coming down sketched its outline well enough.

As I rose, Solid Snake, struck by the blue wave, began to regenerate, thrashing like a thing in its death struggle. Explosions a dozen meters across overlapped across that regenerating body with a thunderous boom, but half of each blast warped and ran down its scales and rocky shell together with the rain.

In that instant the thread-thin something cracked like a switch across Solid Snake's regenerating skull.

Once. Twice. Three times.

Every blow sent the serpent into a seizure that scorched everything around it, while the thread joined to my hand spread wider, longer, and began flicking away every drop of rain.

"What is that..."

The mutter came from somewhere nearby, thick with shock at the Mana Laser shearing a straight line across the screen. I leapt again, and a transparent pillar of light extended from my hand and stabbed into Solid Snake's head.

In slow motion, the pillar ran the skull through. At the same time the tail shot skyward like lightning, shuddered, and collapsed, spraying water in every direction. The enormous head followed, going slack with a sound that shook the earth. The fight was over.

The playback returned to normal speed. The frame of me standing in the rain swallowed the other eight screens and slowly grew. The footage ended. The briefing hall brightened, and the reporters held their silence.

If a High-Rank Variant ever appeared in the real world, the damage would rival a super-typhoon. It does not pass through the way a storm does, and it does not fade on its own. The longer the response is delayed, the worse it snowballs.

The slow-motion stretch had run ten minutes. The elapsed time at the top of the frame read a single minute. Taking the High-Rank Variant Solid Snake in one minute was no small shock to them. The silence did not last. An explosive clamor broke, and reporters hurled questions at Deputy Minister Kim from every side.

He did not answer. He changed places with Director Lee Hyeryeong, as if handing off a shift.

She took the microphone and looked quietly down at the clamoring press. The noise thinned, then died to a held breath. Only then did she speak.

The speech ran long. Stripped down, it came to this: the Association had recognized me as the only hybrid ability user in the world, and hereafter, if unidentified assailants attempted an assassination, international investigative jurisdiction would belong to the nation of the ability user who had been targeted.

The odd part was that it did not name me. It had been written into international ability-user law.

The Branch Director certified the announcement on behalf of the Association, and that was the end of it. A short question period followed. Most of it was about me. How had he become a Special Type. What abilities did he have. Was he really C-Class.

An A-Class can hunt a High-Rank Variant alone, true enough. There are only six known A-Class ability users in the world. My publicly known class, as of now, was C-Class.

The briefing hall buzzed like a stick jammed into a beehive, but Director Lee answered only a few perfunctory questions and closed the announcement.

The picture left her walking away from the uproar and cut to the news desk. Experts invited in advance picked over whether the footage was real, and before long they concluded that no manipulation had been added.

Special footage shot on an Authenticator cannot be altered unless the device itself is modified, and privately modifying an Authenticator is a special criminal offense. Fake the video, and the Association would gain nothing. Use doctored footage in an official announcement like this, and it would be an insult to the Grokis Institute that developed the Authenticator—and relations with Britain, which takes fierce pride in that institute, would turn extremely sour. Or so the reasoning went.

I had thought all hell would break loose around me. Instead the people nearby only turned looks on me that mixed open admiration with a kind of lament. Under those gazes, Franc, Hwayeon, the two vice-captains, and I went up to Hwayeon's office on the nineteenth floor. They sank onto the sofa and let out long breaths.

I was quietly relieved myself. I had worried the shot of me colliding with Solid Snake and getting flung away would spread as a humiliation meme, but the camera angle had made it look impressively like a fight scene out of a film. At this rate, the meme mills shouldn't start churning.

Sophia had her phone out at once, combing the internet for reactions. I turned on my Authenticator and opened the community, and it was in an uproar there too. The whole focus was on who I even was. They were digging through my life.

It was not one place or two. Thanks to that, I could see that my past movements, the old photos that had been floating around online—all of it had been deleted.

"Well handled."

"Huh? You know something about this?"

Hwayeon had muttered it while we looked at Sophia's phone together, and I had asked.

"Before you entered with the verification team, Madam Yeongeun instructed the government's anomalous-ability bureau to place your information under a top-tier classified category, so it would not leak carelessly."

"It'll spread anyway. Through the footage, or through elementary and middle school classmates."

"Cooperation notices went out to every outlet and the major portal sites. Spreading falsehoods about you, or letting your information circulate, could violate the National Rare Ability User Protection Act. The position is that if anyone wants to know, they are welcome to investigate on their own and see how far they get."

"Hmm. So if they issued a hard official line they couldn't walk it back, and this leaves them room to?"

"That's right."

Same logic as a guilty lawmaker who never admits fault. Admit it, and you eat every bit of the blame. Wriggle enough, and you might not have to take responsibility at all.

Honestly, at this point the weight was enormous. I had only wanted to grow strong enough that no one could look down on me, and live as I pleased with the people I love. The scale of it was slipping out of my hands and swelling like a snowball.

The briefing hall earlier had not been domestic media alone. Foreign outlets had packed in as well. Which meant this was going to be a massive issue overseas.

I slipped a hand into my pocket and fidgeted with the USB drive Yoo Chae-rin had secretly passed me a few days ago. I had been saving it until Hwayeon and Yeongeun were both here, so I still had not checked what was on it. That she had slipped it to me in secret meant it was anything but simple. She had gone out of her way to put it in my hands. Probably something that would pour oil on the fire.

The situation was a burden. I was not going to sit still for it. If nothing else, for the bodyguards who had died trying to keep me alive—the man who had been like an older brother to me, and the woman like an older sister.

Franc must have seen my expression darken. She wrapped an arm lightly around my shoulder.

"Leave the tangled business of adults to Hwayeon and Yeongeun, Seoha. You need only keep growing stronger. Strong enough that no one can look down on you, and no one can work a scheme against you."

"So I just have to get strong enough to throw my weight around?"

"I like that. If someone comes looking for a fight, you simply step on them. Grow strong enough to lord it over them as you please."

She was chuckling, soft and pleased, and I laughed with her.

To throw my weight around, I would need to be A-Class at the very least. And right now, facing a High-Tier Variant still felt like too much. I had confirmed it against Solid Snake. Mana Bullets work well enough on something a full rank below me, and fall flat against anything at my level or above. Physical-reinforcement aberrants especially—I had watched one simply dodge a Mana Bullet fired from a kilometer out, and that settled it again. Which meant I would have to fight with only a handful of techniques.

"They can't exactly take the announcement back, can they."

I muttered it, still carrying the worry, and Sophia, beside me, poked my arm.

"Take it back? As if~! We should spread the word of how strong our darling is, far and wide, until our Time River is ranked number one in the world~!"

"I recognize that Mr. Jung Seoha's ability is extraordinary," Cha Soyoung said. "And yet, in the fight against Solid Snake, I could not help sensing a certain unease. That weakness will have to be shored up. Not only Mr. Jung Seoha, but all of us, will have to grow stronger, if we are to claim the number one ranking."

If Cha Soyoung had felt it, others had probably noticed too—that my weakness was close quarters.

Hwayeon agreed.

"As Vice-Captain Cha says. Seoha's only weakness is close combat. He already possesses physical reinforcement, and an excellent technique for protecting himself, so I believe training can fill what is lacking. What remains is strengthening Time River's own capacity. We will cover Seoha's weakness and support him toward B-Class, and at the same time raise each raider's individual ability. Vice-Captain Cha, Vice-Captain Sophia, I ask that you draw up Time River's course of action from here."

"Yes," Cha Soyoung said.

"Yes~!"

They left, saying they would see us later, waving as they went—more precisely, only Sophia waved—and the office door shut behind them. I had expected them to ask about my abilities. They let it pass with surprising coolness.

"Well. The announcement's over, so Yeongeun will head home too, right?"

"Most likely. She'll be home by the weekend at the latest."

I texted Yeongeun after that, and the reply came that she would be off soon herself. I stood.

"Then let's go to Yeongeun's. You can take the weekend off too, can't you?"

"Mm."

Hwayeon nodded. I took her hand, and Franc's, and we left the office. There was something I wanted to try on Yeongeun after all her work, and she deserved some comfort—and I still had to see what was on that drive. On the way I stopped by the twentieth floor, wavering over whether to bring Gon. Franc and Hwayeon were both coming. If Gon found out they alone had been left behind, there would be sulking. In the end I decided to bring Gon along.

Hwayeon's car took us ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠to the mansion in Bangbae-dong. The old butler was waiting at the entrance.

"Welcome. We received word, and have been expecting you."

"Yeah. Go on and rest. It'll just be us tonight."

"Yes."

So he had heard from Yeongeun.

We gathered in the third-floor reception room. It was nearly nine. Franc was drinking the tea that had been brought in, catching her breath, when Yeongeun's private car pulled into the garden.

The butler, having sent every one of the maids off for the night, bowed to greet her. She gave him some instruction and came straight up to the third floor. He left the mansion as he was.

I had been sure she would run straight into my arms the moment she saw me. Instead she flushed and stood there dithering, and I had no idea why. Fine. If she would not come to me, I would go to her.

The moment her eyes flicked aside, I shot in like lightning and leapt straight into her arms.

"Hyaah?!"

The cry that tore out of her was thin and sharp, and nothing like Yeongeun.

"Tell me straight what happened."

"Nnh. Wh-what happened?! N-nothing happened at all?!"

"You're this flustered, you can't even meet my eyes, and nothing happened?"

I pulled her waist in harder. Her face grew redder. She leaned her upper body back, would not meet my eyes, and flinched in little starts.

Franc had been watching from behind with a smile. A slightly mischievous look came over her. She set her hands on Yeongeun's shoulders and whispered.

"Hehe. Yeongeun's heart melted at a single word from you, Seoha. The day before yesterday, on the phone..."

"Fraaanc!"

"Whyyy? You have to start being honest too, Yeongeun! You can't keep pretending to be the lewd Yeongeun forever!"

...The lewd Yeongeun?

"Stop! There's something important— hieek?!"

I did not know what it was, but the reaction made me want to keep teasing her. So I slipped a hand under her skirt, and she jolted, shuddering, and let out a thin, sharp cry.

Yeongeun set a hand on my shoulder and rushed to speak, flustered.

"Early entry! Early entry—it's really important, so let's do that first. All right?"

"All right."

Watching the Yeongeun who usually played the shameless one blush and stammer was a rare sight, and I wanted to tease her a little more. This time I decided to step back. There would be time. I took her hand and walked her toward the sofa in the reception room. The stiff, awkward way she followed felt good.

Hwayeon had been watching the whole time. Her eyes met Yeongeun's, scarlet to the ears, and she let out a soft scoff of a laugh, took a sip of tea, and spoke.

"How amusing, to see that face on the very person who taught me so strictly to hide my feelings."

She smiled as she said it, bright and pointed. Yeongeun must have found it deeply humiliating. Her brow creased, and she shot Hwayeon a glare.

"You try living alone for half a century. Then tell me you wouldn't turn out the same."

"Ugh..."

She seemed to have run out of things to say. Her lips pushed into a pout, so I stole a kiss without warning, and Yeongeun's face went red enough to burst.

"Stop looking... I really can't take it..."

She muttered it small, then dropped her head as if she could not bear it and covered her face with both hands. The ear showing through her hair was flushed ripe red. I touched it. Hot. And touching her ear made her flinch again. The reaction was fun.

"Tell us this important thing. Everyone's waiting. Or should I keep this up right in front of Franc and Hwayeon?"

I kept toying with the reddened ear, and the way her neck slowly drew in was genuinely entertaining.

"I-it's about unreported entry into the Phase World. I felt something was off about why a permit like that was issued, so I looked into it through my own connections, and— haah."

It really was important, so I took my hands back and focused on what she was saying. Only then did Yeongeun sigh, and go on in a voice that trembled slightly.

"I looked into why the High Committee, which holds neutrality so dear, would propose an agenda that so plainly served one person's convenience—and why, having taken that agenda up, they went so far as to convene a full session ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠and extend the courtesy even while binding it with limited conditions. All I managed to uncover, and barely, was that it had originated in the Precognition Department."

I did not answer.

Her face was still flushed, but her expression had gone serious. She stroked my hair, then pulled me in and held me tight around the neck.

"After Jeral Packard vanished, the Ability User Association changed. One could fairly call it conservative—rigid, even. I could not understand why they would grant you an exception and a privilege of this kind, so I looked. All I have gained is more confusion. And the substance of the discussion was sealed as Class-1 top secret. There was simply no way to learn it."

What came from Yeongeun's lips was something that truly mattered.